


Pride

by secretlybritish



Series: The Pride Games [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen, Hunger Games, M/M, Minor Character Death, you'll see the rest of the boys later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 16:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6618499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretlybritish/pseuds/secretlybritish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Pride Games are a morbid and brutal competition. Each of the thirteen districts must provide two people that are of LGBTQ status, who train for a week and then are sent into an outdoor arena to fight to the death.<br/>"May you always be filled with pride. I know the saying. It's been said a million times."<br/>"That's great that you know the saying. But how far are you willing to go for that?"<br/>Or<br/>Louis and Harry go through the Hunger Games as members of the LGBT community.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'd like to thank you for reading my story. It's my first story, so if you find any errors or inconsistencies, please message me and let me know. (Even though I went through this thing multiple times to find anything out of place) If anything triggers you, let me know. Basically, let me know about anything. If you like it, you don't (though extreme comments will be deleted), all is fine.

_He's laying down on a bed that's not his. In a room that doesn't belong to him. He's very confused as he views his surroundings. He hears the sound of a door creaking open. He snaps his head toward the sound.She walks in the room, and time slows down, pacing with her slow footsteps. She has always haunted him - in nightmares and hallucinations. She stops beside his bed, and her hand slowly reaches for his arm. He tries everything to move his arm, but it stays still. It feels like it's pinned to his bed with tons of weight on it. Her fingers caresses over his forearm, while he lays still, paralyzed. He wants to scream, but he can't find the strength as he’s using all of it just to move his hand away from her. It's not her, or her touch that terrifies him, but it's his inability to move._  
_After a few more of his attempts move in vain, he finally wakes up - still unable to move. He watches her walk away, slowly closing the door shut behind her without making a noise. Hallucinations come with sleep paralysis - he tells himself just to assure himself that he can’t be harmed, that she isn't real. The ghost was more silent than the darkness it arose from, staring with heavy lidded eyes and a slack mouth. Her cheekbones accentuated the skeletal look and in her gaze his mind was robbed of emotion. Instead of running, or screaming, he followed her through the door and was seemingly transported to another place. He froze in his tracks. He stood more still than the mossy statue in the heart of the graveyard and just as cold. She beckoned with fingers that rapidly faded to only a suggestion of form. He passed each stone without taking account of the path until he stood in a place that was unrecognizable. She became more solid again, but this time her skin bore many silver scars, thick and jagged. He began to think new things, "I want to stay here with her, forever." The thought became a desire and his insides lit with an intensity to make it possible. His body crumpled to the dirt, leaves and mud met the side of his face and his knees curled into fetal position. It was then he heard someone shout his name, over and over. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing would come._

Louis jerks awake in a cold sweat, panting and looking around frantically. His arm stretches out across the pallet to seek for Lottie's warmth, a source of comfort. But he finds nothing but the space from where his sister once laid. She must have gotten up early and started roaming the house. Of course, she did. She does this every year.

His heart calms a little when he spots her. There's enough light to see her pacing in the kitchen. He looks to his left and can see one more pallet, where his little sister and his mother sleep.

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed. Bare feet touching the cold wooden floor. As he walks past his family he can hear his mother stir.

  "Loubear," she yawns. "Go back to bed."

Louis stops, and sighs. He looks down at her. "I can't, mum. It’s reaping day."

His mother sits up at those words. Judging by her expression, Louis can tell that she had forgotten all about it.

It’s understandable. He would try to forget too, if two of his children might be killed because they were born homosexual.

For the reaping, Louis wears his nicest pair of pants and his best shirt. He places a quick kiss to his mother's cheek before he helps getting the girls presentable.

It takes them about an hour to get ready. At 11 o'clock, they head for the square. They join the silent stream of families making their way to the reaping. Louis glances around and locks eyes to a few people he knew from the marketplace or from school, but mostly he focused on ways to tell his mom that everything would be okay, and not to worry.

There weren't any.

Once they reached the square, Louis was separated from his family and was sent to stand with the kids of his age group. They all nod at one another in acknowledgement then focus their attention to their attention to the temporary stage. It holds two chairs, a podium and one large glass ball. Louis stares at the paper slips. Twenty-seven has Louis Tomlinson written on them in careful, precise handwriting.

Just for the record, Louis thinks the reaping system is totally unfair, with the disadvantaged getting the worst of it. You become eligible for the reaping the day you turn twelve. That year, your name is entered once. At thirteen, twice. And so on and so on until you reach the age of 40. That’s true for every citizen in all thirteen districts in the entire country of America. But here’s the catch. Say if you have family members that you don't want to be in the drawing, then you have an option to apply for apalásso. The option to receive apalásso is available in the districts of America to people of lesbian, bisexual, gay, transgender orientation. If they don't want other members of their family to be added to the drawing, they can have their name added additional times to the reaping only once per family member, in exchange for an apalásso. Louis does this every year for him and his sister. In fact, every year he has to do this.

The chairs are soon filled with the Mayor of District 12 and Jaxon English, District 12's escort, fresh from the capitol with a white smile and a crisp black and green suit.

When everything seems to be in place, the mayor steps up to the podium and begins to read. It’s the same thing that Louis has heard for his entire life. She tells the story of America, the country that overcame its obstacles. The country born from the sheer need of freedom. He lists all the terrible battles, all the disasters, the ever changing thoughts and opinions. The result was America a shining Capitol "loved" by thirteen districts, which brought peace, prosperity & progress to its citizens. Then came the 'fags', the 'dykes' and their allies. Abominations to God. Then half of the districts -the South- rebelled against the other half -the North- and the Capitol. The North was defeated, but all would have to suffer. The Treaty of Romans gave us the new laws to guarantee peace and as our yearly reminder that the rebellion must be repeated, they gave us the Pride Games.

The Pride Games are a morbid and brutal competition. Each of the thirteen districts must provide two people that are of LGBTQ status, who train for a week and then are sent into an outdoor arena to fight to the death. This arena that could hold anything from a post-apocalyptic city to a dense forest. Over a period of a few weeks, (called pride season) competitors must fight to the death. The event is nationally televised as mandatory viewing for all citizens. The last male and female tribute standing wins and is crowned

_King & Queen of Pride._

It’s time for the drawing. "Who's first?" Jaxon English says with an accent as deep as the Mariena Trench. He walks to the glass ball and reaches in, digging his hand deep into the ball. He pulls out a slip of paper and unfolds it, pausing to smile dramatically at the cameras.

_"Louis Tomlinson."_

Everyone around him stares, and clears out a small circle of space so that the owner of this fate would not be misnamed. A Peacekeeper roughly grabs Louis' forearm and pulled him towards the stage. He was so close. As selfish as it was, he was ready to pass on the problem to someone else for another year. But he couldn’t do that because they had picked him and it wasn't fair.

The blood was rushing in his ears, making him slightly dizzy and making the escort's voice sound distant and vague.

"Are there any volunteers?" Louis scans the crowd, not surprised when no one answers the call. He can hear his sisters screaming in protest and he feels tears prick his eyes. He wants to console them, tell them that it's going to be okay but he can't. He has to stand here and be presented to his district (and to the rest of the nation) as a “sacrifice”.

“Isn't this splendid? Now, who's next?" Jaxon once again slips his hand into the glass bowl.

_"Harry Styles."_

**_No. No. No! Not him! Please not him!_**   Louis screams in his mind but his blank expressionless face never waivers. Cerulean eyes watch as he makes his way towards the stage. Harry is tall and lanky with curly brown hair that threatens to hide emerald eyes. Shocked green eyes. His struggle to stay calm is evident. But his eyes say it all,

_He's terrified._

When Harry takes his place, Jaxon asks for volunteers, but no one steps forward. He has an older sister, Louis has seen her in the market-place a few times, but she can't volunteer. She's straight.

The mayor begins to read the Treaty of Romans as she does every year, but this year Louis doesn't listen.

_**Why him?**   _Louis thinks. Harry Styles. The boy that is just so innocent he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He and Louis never really talked anymore and the fact that they didn't live very close didn't help matters. They only interacted a long time ago. Harry has probably forgotten about it, but Louis hasn't. Some days he finds himself thinking about it.

* * *

 

When Louis was younger, he would scare his mother to death by leaving and exploring the forest. Even though trespassing in the woods is illegal, Louis risked it. Especially when his father died of pneumonia. There, where he thought he was alone, he found Harry. There in those woods, blossomed a relationship that no one could truly fathom.

When his mother passed out drunk, Louis slipped out of the house and went to the only person with whom he can be himself. Harry. Louis climbed the hills to their special place, a ledge overlooking a beautiful pond. The sight made Louis smile. Louis quietly makes his way over to Harry who had his back turned and was sitting with his feet dangling over the edge. Louis covered Harry's face (or his eyes rather) with his hands.

"Guess who?" Louis sung into Harry's ear.

"Umm..." Harry drawled. "Gemma?" Louis giggled while he moved his hands and moved to sit beside him.

They didn't talk much but just enjoyed the view. Soft blue sky with few clouds. A gentle breeze. Trees as far as the eye can see. Rolling hills and in the distance the high snow covered peaks. The sound of a stream that followed gets louder until it thunders over a fall into a pristine lake. Light coming through the trees, an earthy smell, moss growing on the trunks of trees. Everything was perfect.

"I could do it," Harry whispers, jarring Louis from his thoughts.

"Do what?" Louis looked confused.

"Leave. Run away. Live in the woods. I could make it."

"I don't know..." Louis trailed off not really sure how to respond.

"You could come with me." Harry suggested. He sounded hopeful, desperate even.

The idea was so tempting even though it was ridiculous. Louis has two little sisters. He might as well add his mother, because how would she live without him? Who would feed them? Protect them?

"Harry..." Louis started.

Harry looks down defeated.

"No... I get it..." Harry started to get up but then he stopped. He turned and looked deep into Louis' eyes before kissing him, thin chapped lips pressed against smooth fuller ones. As soon as Louis felt them, they were gone again. And when he opened his eyes, Harry was too.


	2. Chapter 2

The boys were occupied for the first few hours of the train ride. Harry tried to not have a mental breakdown and Louis stared at nothing and appeared dead to the inexperienced eye. ~~_It was a_ _very_ _fun time_ . ~~

Jaxon comes to rouse them out of their state for dinner. They both follow him through narrow, rocking corridors into a luxurious dining room with patterned cream walls. Situated right in the middle of the room is a long black table. Sitting in one of the white contrasting chairs, waiting for them, is a woman.

  "Hello. And you are?" Louis asks indignantly.

  "Tomlinson!" Jaxon exclaims, but the woman holds up her hand.

  "Oh, that's quite alright, English."

Her Capitol accent, a southern drawl, rings out in the room. She stands and walks to where Louis and Harry are standing. Her heels silenced by the shag carpet. She reaches out her hand.

  "Viktoria. Viktoria Ambrose. District 1."

  **_Figures. She looks nothing like us._ ** She has a sculpted figure which was twine-thin. Her waist was tapered and she has a flawless olive complexion. A pair of arched eyebrows looks down on sweeping eyelashes. Her delicate ears frames a button nose. A set of dazzling, angel-white teeth gleams as she gives the most warming smile. Long blonde hair tumbles over her shoulders in loose curls. The luxurious locks dyed pink at the ends.  Her soft, brown eyes looks at him over her pastel pink lips. Girls in his district would kill for a body like hers. But then again, some girls in his district would kill just for something to eat.

Louis struggles to suppress his growing anger.

 **_They had to give us a mentor from another district_ ** . **_All because my stupid district couldn't win the games, and now we have somebody who can rub that in our faces._ **

But Louis pulls a smile and doesn't look up into Viktoria's eyes when they shake hands.

After dinner, they view the other reapings. The broadcasters try to strategically schedule it so that everyone could watch it in one day but in actuality no one can do that. Only the Capital can. But that’s only because they don't have reapings of their own.

One by one, the reapings are shown. Not that many people volunteer in the Pride Games but it still happens. A few stand out to Louis. One of them is Roxanne Lawrence from District 2. She eagerly volunteers for a lesbian and when asked if she is ready, she looks menacingly into the camera.

  "I just hope everyone else is." **_Okay..._ **

Fortunately for Louis, everyone is less... _psychotic_. One of the last Kardashians (Louis thinks her name is Katherine) is reaped from District 4. The boy from District 6 is cute. An emotional transgender girl volunteers for her (or his) queer brother in District 10.

Then, they show Louis and Harry.

The broadcast really spoke for itself.  There wasn’t any flair. Both of the boys were too shocked to do anything memorable. Louis hears one of the commentators say that they don't expect much from them. Lastly, they show the reaping of District 13. They had a little _incident._ When the girl was picked, instead of bravely accepting death, she bolted. She only gets so far before her body crumples to the floor halfway through the square. She was shot by a sniper. They quickly and seamlessly pick another female and that one has the brains ~~or lack of~~ not to run. They wish America well and the anthem is soon heard, signaling the end of the program.

Saying that English is upset is a little bit of an understatement.

  "They- they just- killed that girl!"

His British accent, another variation of the Capital accent, is filled with surprise and hint of something else. It surprises Louis but not for the reason you would think.

People of the Capital are depicted as being Caucasian. Some are tan -like Viktoria- and others are pale –like the president. There are other races in the Capital but they are in the minority. Especially in the Capital elite. Jaxon seems to be an Islander but those sunk under the Pacific years ago.

 **_He was probably born into it._ ** Louis thinks.

  "Well, we'll show them. Won't we lads?" Louis and Harry each sneak a glance and the curly haired teen puts a hand on Louis's knee.

  "Of course, English."

  "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

 

* * *

 

 

Louis woke to the gentle patter of rain on the roof and thunder rumbling from far away. He pushes the blankets off, immediately feeling the warmth of sleep begin to slip away. He sits up, rubbing the crust from his eyes. He stands and walks towards the window.

The glass was splattered with raindrops, as even more came down. The clouds swirl slightly above the tree line, their pale grey color suggesting a long, mild storm. He suddenly gets the need to use the bathroom. As he walks to the bathroom, he passes by a snoring Harry curled up on the loveseat.

After Louis washes his hands, he looks at his reflection in the mirror. And reality crashes in.

He’s held everything inside for a while now. So many thoughts and memories hit him at once: his father’s death, his mother’s mental abandonment, having to run everything on his own. He kept himself busy with other tasks, but now that he’s alone, his mind torments him and it's too much to bear. A single tear slid down his cheek followed by another one, and another one, until soon, a steady stream of salty tears flowed its way down his cheek, releasing the sadness and sorrow that has been held inside of him for all this time but he did not make a sound.

Harry wakes up when Jaxon raps on the door.

"Rise and shine! Today is going to be a big day! Get your arses moving!" Jaxon exclaims while Harry sits up and rubs his eyes.

"No one should be that cheerful in the morning." The boy mutters.

Harry gets up and shuffles over to the closet to grab some fresh clothes. He passes by the messy bed on the way to the bathroom. Harry sees that the door is closed, signaling that someone is inside. He decides to knock instead of barge in. Harry poises his hand to knock but hears sniffling from the other side. Concerned, he knocks on the door.

"Louis?" The noises stop immediately.

His concern grows and he knocks again. "Louis?" Again, no answer.

He goes to knock a third time but the door slides open.

"Lou-" Harry is cut off by Louis shoving the clothes out of his hands and hugging the taller boy.

"Louis?"

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry does what he is told and silently holds the smaller boy as he breaks down. When Louis cried there was rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound. He clasped onto Harry’s shirt for support and then his whole body shook. The sobs were stifled at first as he attempted to hide his grief, then overcome by the wave of his emotions he broke down entirely, all his defenses washed away in those salty tears.

Jaxon walks in unannounced after a few minutes.

"Come on! The train will arrive any minute and-" He is stopped short by the adorable scene in front of him.

"Aww! That's sweet." He coos. The boys both direct their attention towards the man and their faces are looks of confusion. "If you keep that up in front of the cameras, you're sure to gain a large fan base. Maybe even a sponsor or two."

The looks of confusion morph into glares of anger. Jaxon notices that he overstepped a boundary and promptly leaves. Once the door closes, Louis softly pushes away from Harry and finds new interest in his dirty Converse’s.

"You okay?" Harry asks.

"He ruined the mood." Louis lies. Well, he kind of lies. Louis knows that only two people can come out of this alive. One male and one female. So he being loving to Harry will only hurt them in the long run.

Harry laughs, oblivious to the situation and pulls Louis close.

"Still the same old Louis."

Louis freezes up but quickly relaxes. He prays Harry doesn't notice.

"Lou?"

 **_Shit_ **.

Louis pushes the taller boy away and mumbles something about not taking a shower. He rushes into the bathroom and all but slams the door.

"Great job, Styles." He sighs. Harry eyes his clothes and decides to change without showering. After he strips down, he puts on a black pair of skinny jeans and boots. Before he puts on his shirt, he looks down and plays with an angel necklace his father gave him when he was diagnosed as bisexual.

Before you turn twelve, you have to be tested for your sexual orientation. You go to the doctor, give them some blood and wait for the results. It's like most medical tests. They scan the blood for LGBTQ genes. Before, they only scanned for the gay gene. But a "renowned" doctor found out there is more than one. Many people searched for a cure, but to no avail. Many districts favored special camps that "conditioned" their children to be straight. Luckily, studies were done to prove that the camps didn't do anything except traumatize the participants. But theories go around that camps are still running, a major one being the Pride Games.

When Harry's results came back, he was devastated. His mother left be she was “disgusted to have raised and lived with a faggot”. Harry didn't know what to do. Luckily, his dad did. He helped Harry the best he could and was there for him despite constant harassment for having a bisexual son. When Harry was feeling a bit better, he gave him a beautiful angel necklace that he found at the marketplace.

"You will always be my angel." Harry reads aloud from the back of the necklace.

He prays for his family, wipes his misty eyes and puts on his shirt.

By now Louis has exited the bathroom, dressed in his reaping day outfit: a black and white striped tee, and red skinny jeans. He walks over to the closet barefoot and picks out some red suspenders and-

"Look, Harry! They have Toms! I've always dreamed for a pair!" Louis babbles.

Harry looks on and smiles.

 

* * *

 

 

They both enter the dining car just as Jaxon dodges a piece of thrown fruit, laughing. Jaxon and Viktoria notice them and wave the boys over.

"Hello! Bonjour! Sit, sit, sit!" Viktoria chirps as they sit down.

As soon as they sit, a large platter of food is served to them.

"So how did you sleep? Has this ride been to your liking?" She enquires just before stabbing a piece of fruit and bringing it to her hot pink lips.

"The ride was amazing. It's a wonderful experience." Harry says before eating his eggs.

"Yeah, I like riding a luxury train to my death." Louis mumbles. Jaxon and Harry shoot him a look, but Viktoria shrugs her shoulders and changes the subject.

"We'll be in the Capitol any minute. So be nice. Smile, try to look friendly.”

The boys both nod in understanding.

“Finally, when you meet your prep team, just... endure."

Harry’s face is a look of confusion. "Endure what?" Harry asks.

Viktoria's face is a look of pity. "My dear, you don't know what happens before the opening ceremony?"

Harry shakes his head with a mouth full of toast. Viktoria purses her lips and scans Harry up and down.

"Well, honey, you don't have much to worry about. Some people aren't blessed like you two are."

As much people hate to admit it, the more attractive tributes are better off. Bigger fan-bases and more sponsors equals better survival.

"So that's it?" Louis questions. "Just endure?"

Viktoria laughs. "Just remember, Louis." She leans in close as if telling a great secret. "Beauty is pain."

 

* * *

 

 

"Shit!"

"Ooh, sorry Hun!"

Louis mutters obscenities as his face is waxed and plucked of any unwanted hair. (Which is most of it.) As soon as Louis and Harry walked into the Remake Center, they were nearly attacked by their prep team. Their prep team of four split in half and Louis' half bombards him with shaving his face, waxing his legs and overall turning him into a presentable person.

When Louis' skin couldn’t feel raw enough, they rub down his face and legs with a pinkish cream that stings at first, but eventually sooths his skin.

"Well Hun, you're done." A girl named (Louis thinks her name is) Anna speaks up.

"Absolutely one of the cutest boys we've ever gotten," A guy named Matthew says with a permanent smirk. "Are you sure you're from District 12?"

"Pretty sure." Louis replies, missing the joke. The pair smile anyway.

"Hold on. We'll go get Zayn and the others."

Louis puts on his robe and sits down in a black leather chair. As he sits idly, he wonders how Harry looks. If his makeover was simple or will he be virtually unrecognizable.

When his prep team returns with Harry and what appears to be their stylist, Louis has a look of bewilderment.   **_They didn't do anything to him._ ** As Louis looks closer, he realizes that that isn't exactly true. Harry’s naked body is covered with a robe similar to Louis’. His hair was trimmed just a little. Any stray hairs were gone. His eyes as vibrant as the vegetation back at District 12.

  A woman with a neon green up do piped up from behind Harry.  “He needed little improvement.”

 “Yeah,” Harry’s male stylist chimes in. “Are you sure you two are from District 12?”

  Michael sighs from beside the main stylist. “Aquila, we asked him that already.”

  The platinum blonde, _Aquila_ , frowns. “Well _excuse_ me. I wasn't in here while you probably talked the poor man to death-”

  “Well, I think their beauty is worth restating.”

Everyone’s head turned to look to the head stylist and Louis is a little floored to say the least. The first thing that Louis notices is his height. They way his body flows carefully from joint to joint, no flaws being discovered. His sun kissed skin was covered by a black graphic tee. He's wearing a gold watch to match the accents in his shirt. The perfect color of caramel set off his jet-black quiff, gelled to perfection. His whole face seems as if the gods crafted it themselves; from his petite nose, to the simple studs he wears in his ears, to his incredible jawline that Louis knew that many girls (and boys alike) would swoon over. Louis realizes he’s been staring for too long, clears his throat and speaks up.

  “You’re new? I don’t think I’ve seen you before…”

  “Yeah,” **_Jesus, he even_** **sounds** ** _dreamy._** “I’m a newbie.” One of Louis’ eyes quirks up in confusion. There are only two ways to become a stylist: win the position in the games, or be exceptional in your craft and earn your occupation. Louis remembers seeing someone like him in the games last year but he isn't sure if that was him. “Let's talk about your costumes,” Taking a quick glance around the room, he puts his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “But first, why don’t we head someplace less... depressing.”

Louis tightens his robe and the two follow him through the double doors into a sitting room.  This "room" is a huge loft with industrial lighting and floor-to-ceiling windows. It's about twice as big as Louis’ own home. Across from Louis was a tiny wooden coffee table holding fashion magazines and one black binder. Underneath it was a lush cream carpet that covered the whole room. A television hung on one wall displaying boring commercials. He was too anxious to read any of the magazines or watch TV, so he just shook his leg impatiently, his eyes never leaving the floor.

Zayn takes his place across from the two boys and presses a button on the table. Two scantily clad young women carrying plates of food come through the double door and set the food on the table. It is an assortment of food with a plate of sushi, a couple broth bowls and soups, a few sandwiches and a long plate of salad. Zayn smiles at the girls in thankful gesture and takes the plate of sushi. Louis eyes the platter longingly, unsure if he can just take some food. His foolish act of defiance this morning only hurt himself in the long run and now he’s starving. Harry, without a care in the world, grabs a broth bowl and starts eating. Louis looks from Harry to the food unsure if he could get some food to eat. Obviously, Harry’s eating so why can’t he? His stomach wins out and he grabs a bowl of soup and a turkey sandwich.

“So, about your costumes for the opening ceremonies,” Zayn begins. “You know the ceremonies are different every year.”

Louis nods in understanding. The opening ceremonies are more like a free for all. They give a general theme that ties into the theme of the arena. Stylists select or create ideas for their tributes to flaunt. Last year, the theme was _Winter Wonderland._ District 12’s tributes were dressed up as elves. And while though it was cute, it did very little to rack up sponsors. They didn't last three days.

Louis leans in, intrigued. “So, what’s the theme this year?”

Zayn pulls a small circular device from his back pocket and places it on the table. He presses a small button on the side and a bright blue light is projected from the top. After a few seconds, the light flickers to show the nation's emblem, underscored by the national anthem. After a few more seconds, the light flickers again to show the face of our president, Amanda Breckenridge.

The President is fairly young for her position. The woman could have graced any billboard or magazine cover. She’s a small, thin woman with platinum blonde hair that falls in an unbroken sheet to her shoulders. Her eyes a crystal blue. Her face full of heavenly smiles, and her voice the sound of tranquil music.  But that angelic face hides the brutality of a demon.  A ruthlessly cruel woman, President Breckenridge rules over America with an iron fist. She is obsessed with keeping the perfection of established order. She constantly threatened, and picked off people on her way to the top position. She still maintains that reputation.

“Hello, and welcome to the 58th Annual Pride Games. We salute your courage and your sacrifice,” Louis and Harry both feel as if the President is staring right into their souls. That feeling soon ends when she smiles and her tone changes. “Now, with every new year, there’s a new arena. And with every new arena, there’s a new theme. I have decided to have a soiree at my manor to mark this celebration. You’re all invited.”

The light flickers and the device cuts off. Louis blinks, expecting more.

“Sooo, that’s it?” Harry asks.

“I’m confused. Breckenridge has never invited large groups of people into her home, let alone have a party.” Louis states.

“Yeah, she didn’t even tell us the theme. She was just like ‘Oh, to celebrate people dying in an orchestrated death match, I’m throwing a party.’” Harry mocks. It takes Louis back a bit because that's the most that Harry’s ever said since being thrown into this.

“As much as I dislike the idea of the Games too, Harry, we must be positive.” Zayn says. “The theme was in that massage. The soiree is the theme.”

“So, are we gonna be in fancy suits?” Louis asks hoping they won't be dressed in anything crazy or outlandish.

“Fancy, yes. Suits, no,” Zayn answers. “We need to make them remember you.”

“Does that mean we’re gonna be naked?” Harry inquires. Louis thinks of what they did to District 13 last year and pales as he thinks of being exposed in front of millions of people. Zayn grins and Louis wonders if he should be comforted or concerned.  

“Not in the slightest.”


	3. Chapter 3

A few hours later, Louis and Harry are either dressed in the most astonishing or the most ridiculous costumes ever. Louis is dressed in a beautiful black dress with short sleeves. The back and sides of the dress are cut out and lace is in its place. The rest of the dark material hugging his curvaceous body. Harry has on a similar dress. It's ivory material glittering all the same. Both of the dresses have a slit up the side that shows off both of the boy's toned legs. Louis notices that Harry has on short gold heels and he thinks that it is  _ highly  _ unfair.

 “And why isn’t Harry wearing st-steeletos?” Louis demands.

 “Stilettos, Louis. And that's because he’s tall enough already-” Matthew answers.

 “Oh, so you’re saying I’m too short?” Louis retorts.

 “No one says you’re too short, Lou.” Harry says.

 “Yeah, we just need you two looking as sexy as ever!” Aquilla announces.

Louis sighs in defeat and turns to look at himself in one of the full length mirrors. He revels at how he looks. His hair is a rich shade of mahogany. It flows in waves to adorns his glowing, tan skin. His face is wondrous; a straight nose, full blood red lips and heavily kohled eyes that only allow his natural blue eyes, framed by long lashes, to be more piercing and distinct. He seemed the picture of seduction. 

 “Both of you look stunning. Not as beautiful as me, but… you get the point” Aquilla jokes with a smile.

Harry laughs and Louis takes this as an opportunity to get a good look at him. Harry’s wig is just like his real hair, curly, but much longer. Harry needed a little more padding than Louis but needed less makeup. His face is relatively clear of extravagant makeup, just a bit of highlighting here and there. They highlighted his face so he appeared angelic. While Louis looks sinful, Harry looks innocent and pure as the driven snow. 

Both Harry and Louis look around and scout out the competition. The tributes from District 1 look so beautiful. The boy had a knee-length toga accented with gold ropes, he also had a gold, sparkling lightning bolt painted over the left side of his face. The girl had a matching toga, accented with purple and gold, and had a long pattern down her arm that looked like some kind of golden snake. Both of their tasteful tunics were glittering with jewels. 

Personnel are running around with their heads cut off, yelling at everyone to get into their places. The opening music soon begins. Massive curtains slide open revealing a suspended glass catwalk. The catwalk illuminated with bright lights.  The entire show lasts about twenty minutes and ends right in front of the President’s Balcony. They will escort the tributes into the Training Center, which will be their home/prison until the Games begin. 

District 1 walks out and you can hear the roar of the crowd. They are always favorites. District 2 gets into position to follow them. They are in full red burlesque/lion tamer attire.  **_They must be the entertainment._ ** District 5 is soon up next and Harry has to stifle a laugh after looking at District 5’s getup. They were dressed up head-to-toe in glittering, flashing material. No definition, no shape, just pure ugliness.  **_What was their stylist thinking?_ **

In no time at all, they are approaching the curtain and Louis wonders just how many people out there. Hundreds? Thousands? The tributes from District 11 are just walking out when Zayn and one of the prep team appears with two pairs of wings: one white, one black. 

 “Ready for your wings?” Zayn asks  them.

First, Louis has to wear a dress and heels and have someone invading his personal space just so they can put makeup on him. And now he has to wear wings? He better not have to lift a single finger in these games.

 “I’m ready,” he grumbles. Harry simply nods in excitement, grinning from ear to ear.

Back at home, when no one was around, Harry would put on his mother’s lipstick in the mirror and admire how pretty he looked. After seeing vintage reruns of multiple drag queen competitions, seeing those queens dress up in pretty/killer makeup and clothes, he wanted to do the same thing. Feel the same thing they felt. Freedom. And now Harry is living the dream. Full face makeup, padding, a dress with killer heels and now wings? Harry could cry.

Louis remembers seeing these wings when someone was doing his makeup and he thought they were for another tribute. They have a simple construct but they look effortlessly gorgeous.

“Let’s get ‘em on you already,” Matthew says with a smile that implies he knows just how important this moment is to Harry.

“One, two, and… three!” Anna says as they slip the wing straps over their shoulders.

They feel, well… light as a feather. 

Zayn goes behind them and Louis hears the flick of a switch. He lets out a sigh of relief from behind the tan lad.

“They work.” 

Then he comes back around and gently kisses Harry’s then Louis’ cheek. “Remember, walk straight. Chests out. Attitude. They will adore you!” 

As they move closer to the stage, Harry grabs Louis’ right hand in his left, and squeezes it a little. This startles him.

“What are you doing?” Louis says in shock.

Harry looks down at Louis and shrugs slightly. “Calming myself, I guess.”

The butterflies that accompanies his nervousness doesn’t help anything. The personnel call out that they have only 30 seconds. 30 seconds before they walk in front of thousands of people and most likely make a fool of themselves. Maybe one of them might fall and cause further embarrassment, causing them to lose any type of sponsorship and then Louis has to watch one of his closest friends die-

Louis quickly shakes his head to stop his mind from rambling and he (by some divine miracle) manages to steel his nerves before walking out onto the catwalk.

“Next we have Harry Styles and- oh my word…”

The crowd’s initial alarm at their appearance quickly changes to cheers and shouts of “District Twelve!” Every head is turned our way, pulling the focus from the district ahead of them. The audience goes crazy for them, hollering and clapping, some are even out of their seats. Louis breaks out in a smile so wide he feels like it can be seen even in the lowest quality. At first, both boys are hesitant, walking slower than they should, but then Harry catches sight of them on a large television screen and is floored by how breathtaking they look. The spotlights illuminate their faces making them look fierce and fearless.  **_Remember, chests out. Attitude. They will love you!_ ** Zayn’s voice echoes in Harry’s head. He lifts his chin bit higher, puts on his most fierce look, and he puts a little more attitude into his step. Watching all those drag competitions finally paid off. 

As if it couldn’t get any better for them, the beat drops, and fire erupts from the side stage special effects canons. The people of the Capitol are going nuts, shouting their names, their first names, which they have bothered to find on the program. The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration take a toll on Louis, and he’s full of excitement.  **_No one will forget me. Not my look, not my name. Louis. Fucking. Tomlinson. The Drag Queen._ ** For the first time, Louis feels a tickle of hope rising up. **_Surely, there must be one sponsor willing to take me on! And with a little extra help, some food, the right weapon, why should I count myself out of the Games?_ **

A loud collective gasp and a few screams knock Louis from his thoughts. He looks to the screens to see what's wrong and he looks just in time just to see Harry fall off the catwalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cheap shot, I know. I wanted to add a little spice to the chapter. Again, I love the feedback. It lets me know if my story is well liked.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!


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